


A Stormy Night

by ichikonohakko



Series: The Tales of the Wayne Conglomerates [2]
Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Superheroes, Damian is cuddly and Talia is a great mother, Gen, batfamily, pre-batfamily Damian living with the Al Ghuls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichikonohakko/pseuds/ichikonohakko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a stormy night when the sounds of thunder echoed throughout the Al Ghul Manor, little four year old Damian opened the huge wooden door with a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other. </p>
<p>Or how Talia told stories of Bruce Wayne to her impressionable little son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stormy Night

In a stormy night when the sounds of thunder echoed throughout the Al Ghul Manor, little four year old Damian opened the huge wooden door with a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other.

Normally, the grandson of the Great Ra’s Al Ghul would never resort to such a childish act. But the storm made the windows of his room rattle and the lightning blinded him whenever it flashed. He had been hiding under his bed, hoping that the storm would subside in a few hours. But the stormy night was long and dark and the fire had stopped burning in his fireplace Damian elected to bring himself to Mother’s room.

Mother’s room still had the faint glow of the recently burned-off hearth, the melodious tune of violin and flute echoed along the room and it served as an ambience to the stormy night. The nightstand lamp was on and his mother was sitting with her reading glasses on. She didn’t look up, but gestured Damian to come inside.

So Damian did. Little legs carried him to his mother’s bedside as he looked down to his feet, unsure of what to say. What could Damian say to her that won’t make her think that he was being a weakling unfit for the name of Al Ghul Conglomerates? He couldn’t think of anything to say.

But Mother looked up from the book, green eyes identical to his own scanned him from head to toe before she eventually sighed. The crackle of thunder outside made Damian flinch, but he stayed firm on his position.

“Beloved,” Mother began, her hands were open and she smiled. “Come, Damian. Do not be frightened.” The heir of Demon stepped forward, step by step until his torso collided with Mother’s bed. The first daughter of Al Ghul conglomerate had her hands under Damian’s arms and she lifted him up and pulled him into a calming embrace.

The thunder crackled, rattling the windows of Mother’s window, but Damian felt that it wasn’t scary.

“Are you afraid of the lightning, my little one?” Mother’s voice was kind, totally different from the voice he heard in the study hall or the ballroom. That was Talia Al Ghul, prided first daughter of the Al Ghul Conglomerates, but this was _Mother_. Damian’s mother.

The little boy indulged himself in her embrace, nuzzling his head under his mother’s chin in an attempt to get comfortable. Mother hugged him tighter, as if protecting him from the storm outside their manor.

“There, there, my most loved little one…” She said soothingly. “The storms cannot hurt you, nothing will ever hurt you. Not as long as I am here. Not as long as I breathe. Your father would tell you the same…” She murmured absently, whispering sweet nothings to comfort Damian. But green eyes looked up from the comfort of her embrace and Damian stared at her, piercing.

At first Mother showed her confusion. Her hands were still encircling Damian’s waist protectively, worrying that he might fall, but Damian didn’t move even when she tightened her hold and brought their torso together. Damian starend eventually a smile broke on Mother’s lips.

“I never tell you the many stories of your father, do I?”

“No.” Damian answered, his voice firm and yet it was a mere whisper under the sound of orchestra playing the Overture of Schubert’s Rosamunde, Mother’s favorite classical piece, and the storm raging outside. But she caught it fine. Mother had a smile on her normally steely face and she seemed to remember something funny because she was stifling a giggle.

“Your father is a very charming man,” she said, fondness and adoration oozing from her words. “He is a very complex man living in a very complex city. He reigned over the city of Gotham like a king reigned over his beloved kingdom. He had more kindness than anyone, yet he is willing to dirty his hands when it comes to protect the things he loved.” She took a deep breath. “I was once a part of those things…” this was said in a mere whisper. But Damian echoed her. “Was?”

“Yes, my love.” Mother pecked his temple once. “My Father had asked me to choose the Al Ghul or the Wayne. My Father or the man I love. I had chosen my Father, I left the man I love for the family I need to protect…” Damian knew about the matter, after all Grandfather mentioned it every dinner and history lesson.

Ra’s Al Ghul of the Al Ghul Conglomerates had been blessed by two daughters. The beautiful Talia and the graceful Nyssa. When Talia was courted by the sole bearer of Wayne fortunes, Grandfather had given it a long consideration. It was impossible for the sole survivor of Wayne family to marry into the Al Ghul family and ending his own family line. So he had depended upon Nyssa to give him an heir for the Demon.

But just as Talia brought upon the Wayne scion’s marriage proposal to his table, Nyssa eloped with a woman known as Ta-er al-Sahfer and thus exiling herself from the Al Ghul Conglomerates.

And this time, it was the Al Ghul family who faced crisis. With Grandfather going older by the second, an heir apparent is needed. And Grandfather decided to call his daughter back home.

Damian knew all about it. He saw how Mother smiled and danced and uphold the Al Ghul name in the high society. But he never knew the life she left behind to return here.

“Mother…” Damian whispered. “What is… Father like?” It felt strange to use the word he never utter before. Whenever he drew his family tree, Damian always drew it in a straight line, Grandfather, Mother, and then He. There was never a line to connect Mother to anyone else. But the wistful gaze, the fondness, the adoration, the _love_ he heard from his Mother’s voice was too dazzling to go unasked. Damian wanted to know about his Father.

Mother burst into a low, affectionate, chuckle. It goes on for a few seconds and it was longer than any polite giggles and laughter she ever had when she was Talia Al Ghul. Damian felt his stomach churning with butterflies when he saw his mother so… _happy_. “Your father, like I say, is a very charming man.” She laughed. “And he would have loved you so very much, Damian. Your father is a bit awkward with children, but God knows just how much he tries. He will love you the best, of that I am sure.” She sighed fondly. “We met here, in Nanda Parbat, years ago in one of the balls your grandfather threw. He knew how to woo and dance, and most of all, he knew how to take me on adventures…” There was another fond sigh. “Please tell me about them!” Damian was excited now. Never before did he see his mother as aglow as she is now. Mother smiled, and then indulged him in stories.

The storm outside died down into a mere drizzle and Damian was already sleepy. Mother was still recalling one of the many misadventures she and Father had. As he snuggled closer to his mother’s embrace, Damian whispered. “I forget to ask the most important question.” Mother hummed. “And what is that, my love?”

“What is my Father’s name?”

There was a smile, a sigh, and a flash of sadness before Mother ruffled his hair affectionately. “His name is Bruce. Bruce Wayne.”

“What does that mean?”

Mother laughed at that. “He is an American, beloved. Their names don’t mean anything. Now go to sleep, Damian, you have lessons in the morning.”

Mother turned off the nightstand lamp and the room was plunged into instant darkness. The ongoing classical melody died down into a faint sound mixing with the gentle pitter-patter of rain falling outside the manor. Damian fell asleep, and he dreamed about a faceless man standing atop a high building and himself holding the man’s hand as they both oversee a beautiful city full of warm lights in the dark of the night.


End file.
